Extinguished
by Magery
Summary: Hers was a flame that should have burned forever.


They're walking down the hall, not quite touching but oh so close - Zero and Q1, the black king and queen. They've been summoned to a meeting. Neither knows why, but they know they'll arrive together, attend together, act together, be together. Not because they're in love, no, women do not fall in love with masked liars and men do not love loyal subordinates, for this is the real world. They are together because they must be, because she is everything he is not and that is the way it will always be. The way it must always be.

The door to the hangar opens, the hiss breaking the comfortable silence between them. She walks through first (to him she'll always be first), protecting him even here. He thinks it's unnecessary, but secretly he's pleased, because then he can pretend she cares. Then the lights burst to life; their harsh glare blinds him, even through the mask. He can feel her flinch back, towards him, and he wonders what she'd do if he caught her, if he stopped her fall in his arms, but he already knows. Doesn't he?

The moment passes. She catches herself, but doesn't move forward. Her arms fly out, moving with powerful, captivating grace like a dancing flame. It takes him a moment to realize she's shielding him as his mind catches up to the outside world.

There they are, arrayed in a half-circle around him, guns raised. But it's not only their mechanical sights aimed, for the expressions on their faces would have struck a lesser man down. But he's not thinking of himself, of his betrayal or theirs nor anything else but her. He can hear it in their voices, see it in their eyes. They're willing to kill her to kill him, and that he will not allow.

He wonders briefly who set him up, and glances towards the hangar's second level. A flash of gold, a mane of vibrant purple. He's been betrayed by perhaps the only siblings left he ever cared about. He'd laugh at the irony, but he can't. He's too worried about her.

She's speaking now, and he realizes she's asking him a question. Or rather, she's asking him their question, but it's different coming from her. From her, it hurts. Not only because her voice is quavering, breaking like he's doused her flame in ice, or because of the pain in her bright blue eyes, but because of what he's about to do.

He allows himself a bittersweet smile, under his masks. She's the bodyguard, the black queen willing to sacrifice her everything for him (she's his everything, and she always will be), but this time he's the one who'll save her. This time, he's the one who'll sacrifice himself for her, for the last time.

He starts to speak, pretending to damn her soul as he damns himself to oblivion. She starts to walk away, fire flickering, dying, extinguishing under the blizzard of icy words, under the tears slipping down her face. She turns, taking one last look at him, imprinting him in her memory before she leaves him to die. The ice is breaking. She turns again, walking away for what will be forever. The ice breaks.

He speaks her name, followed by three words. Not the three words she's always wanted to hear, but they're enough. She turns for the third time, sprinting towards him as the guns blaze, tongues of flame (they'll never match her fire, he thinks as he prepares for the pain) propelling small, insignificant lumps of oblivion towards their target.

She crashes into him, knocking him to the floor as sparks fly from the harsh concrete around them. He wonders why he isn't dead, where the bullets went that should have finally ended his pain. He lifts her up, gently, wondering why his hands are so damp. She isn't responding as he moves her, and he doesn't know why. He looks up, and then he takes in their expressions. Horror. Sadness. Loss. He looks down. The ice shatters.

She's lying there, lying there right in front of him with her life leaking out of her into little red pools. They match her hair.

He's screaming pleading begging praying crying _breaking _but she's still dying. And he doesn't know what to do. He'd do anything for her, but he's not a god and she's still dying why is she dying she can't be dying she can't be she can't...

She's dying there, dying there right in front of him with the light in her eyes slowly fading. They're blue, so blue they're like an ocean, only she's the one drowning . They're the colour of ice, crystal chips of frozen azure. They shouldn't match her hair. Her hair is red, burning red, and her eyes are blue. Fire is not ice. Fire is the opposite of ice. They shouldn't match. But they do.

He's crying there, crying there right in front of her as her breath stutters, catching in her chest. The air slips out, leaking away, each gasp bringing her closer to the end. But she can't be dying. Not here. Not without him. Not ever.

She's staring at his mask, and her fingers twitch slightly, moving upwards, like she wants it removed. He obeys, ripping it off. He doesn't care who sees him now. He never will, any more. She beckons again, weaker than before, and he moves downwards. Her lips brush against his ear.

She whispers his name, one soft word quickly followed by three more. The last trickles out slowly, trickles out like the blood that surrounds them, trickles out like the life in her body but it shouldn't be she should be alive he should be dead it was meant for him never for her never her never...

She's fading, fading fast as he cradles her in his arms, so close he can feel the slow beat of her heart, so slow it's too slow how can it be so slow why is it so slow his mind is screaming and he's screaming and the world should be screaming why isn't everything screaming?

And she slips away and so does his heart and there's a gaping wound in his chest she's gone how could she be gone she promised he promised he broke his promise her broke her promise she broke her promise he broke her she's _broken_.

There's a smile on her lips, and in that smile is everything he's ever wanted, except a future. But she must have a future she's his future her future no more future only memories she's a memory it hurts like fire she's fire she was fire she's _extinguished. _

He looks up. The ice is gone, replaced by a burning flame that rages, rages against the dying of the light. His eye is crimson, like her hair. Like her blood. He screams at them, commanding them to obey. The phoenix takes flight, rising from his ashes, her ashes, a sweeping sheet that incinerates their will, incinerates it like the fire he's lost. Like the fire he's become.

The shots ring out like the cracks of burning branches. The blood splatters everywhere, pooling on the floor, staining it with his anger. With his sadness. With his loss.

With the emptiness that used to be a man.

It won't be until the day of her funeral that he remembers the hottest part of the flame is always blue.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This is a re-write of the betrayal scene. As you can probably tell, I was in a depressed mood when I wrote this. Probably because I'd just read _For Two_, _Breaking Queens_, _Stop_ and _burning on _by 'regenerate' all in a row. I suspect anyone who's read those will notice the similarities between his writing and this. But seriously, those are the saddest stories I've ever read, except for the only book that's ever made me cry (the ending of _The Amber Spyglass, _if anyone was wondering).

For those of you thinking 'wait a minute, I've seen this sentence before', yes, I have borrowed two sentences from Breath of Life because originally this was written as a brief exercise based around those sentences. It just... came out differently.

Anyway... this was written from the heart, not my head. That's about all I have to say, apart from asking you to please review this so I know if I can manage to convey my emotion to other people.

Until next time,

Magery

P.S I apologize to those who reviewed/favorited/followed the old version, I took suggestions from people who told me it was too short/lacked a storyline.


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